


Racing the Clock

by Jadedphase



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Hank is being scientific, Peter is just being peter, post Age of Apocalypse, potential rating rise, tags will be added along the way, this might end up Hank/Peter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-02 04:05:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11501421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadedphase/pseuds/Jadedphase
Summary: Once the dust of their recent battle has settled Hank tries to get back into the normality of his own work, leading him to toy with notions of studying the mutations of those at the school in the hopes of giving the kids better means to fit into the world around them.When Peter becomes his first subject both of them are unprepared for some of the answers they find and the implications it leads to.





	1. Chapter 1

It had been puzzling Hank since they’d arrived back, since the school had been reconstructed and he finally had a chance to return to his own work, roaming a newly furnished lab with a million questions and searching for a direction to take them. The newest members of their makeshift team were, of course, the topic that rattled inside his brain. New mutations, new personalities; and while the latter was more the Professor’s area to deal with the former was one he wanted to dig into and see if he could unlock. 

The boy with the blue skin and tail, his large eyes brimmed with curiosity and the subtle sort of anxious gleam whenever people drew too close; Hank himself knew how it felt to be uncertain of people even looking at you and fearing their reactions. Kurt; maybe that boy he could help the way he had found a way to suppress his own mutation. Raven still thought, anymore, that it wasn’t right but maybe for her, so bold and strong, or even himself…so much to prove that he could do, it was alright to shoulder the stares. But Kurt was already in a new world so far from his own and very obviously fear had done its damage to him in the past; he at least deserved the option. 

The girl with the sharp hair and angles but the strange hint of eager hope in her gaze; she controlled things Hank himself could hardly imagine. So much power in one body that she nearly crackled with it when she walked and that was nothing short of amazing. Oro needed his help the least, he supposed, because the way she held herself betrayed that one day she would be a leader, would be stronger than many of them. He wanted to discover how it was the lightning raced along her fingers, the winds swirled in her presence, but there was a thin line between curiosity and the sort of forced experiments that men like Stryker would entertain and Hank did not want to cross it. 

And of course, the speedster was now one of them, and frankly, Hank couldn’t decide if this were a good decision or not. Peter was desperate for a sense of purpose and belonging but he was also a wild card, a loyal one but potentially dangerous in ways they wouldn’t be able to handle because he wasn’t some kid stumbling into his powers. Peter had honed what he could do, perhaps in stealing and his own selfish desires but honed none the less; the school stood little chance of teaching him the patience that was bound to be what he needed the most. But Charles trusted him and wanted to help him, and for Hank that was reason enough. Nothing he could do for Peter, the man seemed to be perfectly happy with his abilities and very obviously hiding was not something in Quicksilver’s nature to do; he was simply the elusive blur around the school that everyone else would have to adapt to.

But a safe place to start, perhaps, with a few tests to satisfy his own curiosity. The others might be apprehensive to the idea of anyone asking questions of them but Peter would talk endlessly; Hank made the quick decision and debated the best way to track down the man before he gave up the notion and pushed open the door of his room, headed to Charles’ office instead. Chances were the only way to even find Peter was to let the Professor give him a mental nudge; he wanted to discuss the idea with his old friend anyway before he started venturing into the shaky realms of studying the new students. 

 

“Yo, somebody said you wanted to see me?” 

The words reached Hank before the sight of the man did, the blur darted past him and finally slowed near one of the tables. The instant it did Peter’s eye went from him to said table and his hands had already snatched up a tube there to study it; empty so far and little interest so the man’s attention turned back to looking for other items to prod at. 

“Ah, yes,” Hank had to draw a breath to remind himself to be patient, “Could you please not touch those? They’re sterile and I need them to stay that way.”

“Sorry Doc.” The words came swiftly and in an apparent show that he meant them Peter tucked both hands behind his back and left only his right foot to tapping. “S’what did you want?”

That question was a complicated one and bound to turn awkward, Hank did the best he could at answering. 

“I’m trying to gather a few files on the variations of mutations and yours isn’t one I’ve seen before; I wanted to see if you’d allowed me to do that? It’s all voluntary of course,” the last part he added with a hesitate expression as it was important that it be obvious and already the request sounded ominous. 

“You wanna…what…experiment on people?” That foot stopped tapping and just under where his goggles perched on his head Peter’s eyebrows furrowed, expression both puzzled and suddenly wary. 

“No, not at all!” Hank quickly amended with a lift of his hands and nearly a step back before he steadied himself, “I only want information, in case I can help some of the students here who might need ways, like myself, to adapt to society.”

“Yeah, I noticed you dropped the fur,” Peter trailed off with a glance over Hank's very much pale skin and more human appearance before his eyes swung back to that table, “Does make it sound like something’s wrong though. There’s nothing wrong with me.” 

Different, yes, he would always be different. But wrong…that was something Hank could tell struck a painful nerve with the other man in the way his eyes dropped to the side and tension flickered over him. Wrong was a word someone had used in the past that had left a scar and Hank instantly felt a twinge of sympathy deep in the pit of his stomach.

“There’s nothing wrong with any of us,” he tried to sound as earnest as he could but pep talks were not really his strong point, “but understanding the mutations might make a difference to some kid who can’t walk outside on a busy street because they’re gifted with extra eyes, or blue skin, or any other sort of physical mutation that might stand out as a reason to judge them.” 

Peter grew still, a very odd state for him, for the full span of two minutes before he finally, thankfully, nodded. Taken in that context he knew he couldn’t dismiss the idea; he was lucky enough that nothing really stood out in ways that were too obvious with his mutation but other people weren’t. If he wanted to he could avoid being seen altogether with just a few swift steps; the idea of some kid suffering the sort of stares he had still gotten despite looking ‘normal’ hit a rough spot in him. 

“Better not be any of that Frankenstein stuff though,” it was a humored warning but a warning none the less, “You’re supposed to be one of the good guys, Doc.”

“I intend to continue to be,” Hank reassured him with more conviction than he felt because that was truly a slippery slope that he knew he had to navigate carefully. It was, after all, necessity that led even the best men to the realms of becoming monsters.


	2. Chapter 2

“What’s that for?” 

It would mark the fifth time in roughly twenty minutes Hank had the question thrown at him. Twenty minutes, that was all, and part of him was starting to wonder if he was going to survive the rest of the afternoon. 

“It’s for blood cultures; in hospitals, they use them to run more extensive tests but I’m just going to have a look to see if there are abnormalities in your blood.”  
Assuming, of course, that he could get Peter to stay still long enough to accomplish blood being drawn, much less tested. 

The man was still lingering around the edges of the room, eyes still skipping from spot to spot while Hank moved around the space and set things up for his tests. It was difficult to tell if it happened to be nervous energy or just the normal excess of it that had Peter pacing but already knowing how apprehensive he was over the idea of being poked at and studied Hank was willing to assume it was a combination of both. 

“Do you really know what you’re doing?” It was a fair question, given how often they all took on roles outside what they should have. “I mean…the Professor isn’t really, and the teachers here are just picking up the slack, what about you, Doc?” Flickering eyes raced back to him and Hank felt the weight of that questioning gaze fall heavy on his shoulders. 

“Everyone on staff here is qualified to do what they do, aside from the training for the X-Men, but we have to guess at that since none of us really have a military background.” Hank set one of the slides aside and looked briefly to the table, the needles resting there, debating how he was going to move the process along. “It’s just Hank though, really, you don’t have to call me anything but that. And I’m a scientist, not a doctor, you’re right. I’m also the only one here who has already worked with things like this, I have been since I graduated from Harvard.”

“Right, you made the stuff that makes you,” Peter waved a hand at Hank and his currently very human appearance, pondering over the words. “Isn’t Harvard one of those places you spend ten years graduating?”

“No, not for most people, but I did graduate very early,” Hank replied as he began separate packages and carefully avoided saying more. Being a mutant was something he had in common with people there, the fact that he was also practically a genius who had graduated college before he was sixteen was only going to put more distance between himself and others, and especially Peter. The less they had in common the harder it would be for Peter to trust him; downplaying things was the only way for the time being. 

“Isn’t it dangerous?” Peter was suddenly at his side, looking over the needles with some obvious discomfort on his features. “Making drugs that change mutations? Messing with nature?”

That question struck a nerve and Hank sighed, for an instant his eyes dropped shut and he turned his full attention to his own hands when he opened them again. 

“Yes, it is,” he could not deny it, “I didn’t used to be…blue and..furry, as you pointed out when we were captured. I did have physical mutations but in the process of trying to fix my small mutations I made a mistake and turned myself into the creature I am now.” 

When he glanced up Peter was gone and Hank resolved himself to the idea that the story had sent the man fleeing under the worry that something of the same sort would happen to him with Hank’s meddling around with his genes. And that was nothing Hank intended to do but the implications alone were terrifying enough to send anyone running. 

“That’s sort of sad, Doc…er..Hank.” The voice sounded from across the room where the strange mutant had settled himself sitting on one of the tabled, bag of chips from the kitchen in hand as he tossed a few into his mouth. 

Well, that explained the few seconds Peter had been absent from the room. 

“I have no intentions of doing that again, not with anyone else, not until I know for certain it’s safe. Even then…I’m going to try ways that don’t involve the extremes I went to.”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded in reply and dug out another handful of the chips, dragging the toe of his sneakers back and forth on the floor under his seat. “So; we gonna start or what?” 

“You still want to do this?” Hank could not obscure the surprise in his voice when he finally spoke.

“Worst case,” Peter crumbled up the empty bag in his hands and tossed it on the table next to him, “You get my blood to mess with; I’m not letting you test anything on me so what’ve I got to worry about?”

“Just a few tests,” Hank agreed, eager to start, his hands already dropped to the sterile packages in front of him. The needle gleamed in the light behind the plastic surrounding it and Peter went a hint paler. 

Apparently, somebody didn’t like needles. 

 

It wasn’t as difficult as Hank expected but was by no means easier either; a good two minutes were spent explaining every step before he had done it, before Peter would even allow him in the same close space as himself with that needle. To be so bold and loud the man was practically a nervous wreck when it came down to something so simple; Hank had to wonder if much of that came from the uneasy feeling most all mutants shared when it came to tests and laboratories. 

The news was ripe with protest groups, with people now who demanded the mutant gene be pulled apart, studied, and the people who carried it lived in the very real fear of what that might involve. Hank himself knew that science was not always kind, nor was it what always made it on the news. For every story of a smiling doctor offering clinical help for those suffering from the effects of their mutations, there were a dozen quiet little laboratories torturing innocent people to pry the secrets out of their bodies. 

It was a fear they all knew even if they’d never experienced it firsthand. 

But once the blood was drawn and he had reassured Peter that was it for the day the other man had darted out of the room and left him in relative peace. It was bound to be a long night ahead; too curious to sleep so he would spend much of it up carefully studying those slides and what he could make of them. 

He looked for a moment at the thin vial in his hand, knowing that within it was the entire genetic sum of a person and everything that made them what they were. Somewhere in that blood, the secrets to inhuman speed lay coiled up inside strands of otherwise normal DNA. The idea was both terrifying and amazing.

The night ahead of him held a great deal of work but more than anything it held promise and Hank could not help but feel a twinge of excitement over what might be waiting there to be discovered.


End file.
